Boy Band: The Sequel
by Aki-Chan04
Summary: New part up! Wufei's having hair issues and Relena decides to show up... someone's gonna snap! You wanted more... So howabout a little Down Under tour for our favorite boy band? Only Duo's driving gets them into a bit of trouble...
1. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. Nor do I own their Record Deal. But maybe their agent will trade them to me? 

AN: All right, so you guys wanted a sequel. Here it is - at least the first part! ;) Thanks for the overwhelming response - I had no idea!

Boy Band: The Sequel

Part 1

"Wow! Look at all the open space!" Quatre exclaimed, pressing his nose up against the glass of the Jeep window, watching the open terrain of the Australian outback go by. 

"Remind me again why we are here?" Wufei asked grumpily from the middle of the backseat. "And can someone also tell me why we're letting that braided baka *drive*?"

"To get away from Relena, and because he wasn't going to stop whining unless we let him," Trowa answered from the other side of the backseat. 

"I just hope she doesn't follow us here" Heero muttered from the passenger seat. 

"Look, man, you should really just tell her off. For good," Trowa offered. 

"I can't! You don't under-"

"DUO! WATCH OUT FOR THE WOMBAT!" Quatre screamed, as the Jeep swerved violently to avoid hitting the indigenous wildlife that had been peacefully crossing the road, oblivious to the oncoming vehicle. 

"Sorry!" came the apology from the drivers' seat. 

"SORRY? You nearly killed - WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD!" Wufei screamed as they were nearly plowed into by an oncoming truck. Duo quickly swerved to the other side, barely escaping certain death. 

They did not, however, escape the ditch on the other side of the road.

"Damn Americans. Learn to drive on the LEFT side of the road when you're not in your own stupid country," Wufei muttered as they climbed out the window and into the outback. 

***

"Whose idea was it to drive all the way to Sydney by ourselves, anyway?" 

"Heero's."

"Look - we had to land somewhere out of the way so Relena couldn't track us. We had to drive ourselves instead of taking the trailers so the girls wouldn't rip Duo apart," Heero muttered. 

"And who exactly was opposed to girls ripping Maxwell limb from limb?

"Hey! Just 'cause I'm the most popular, Wufei, doesn't mean that you have to get so jealous. It's your own fault - if you weren't so grumpy all the time you wouldn't be the bad boy. Maybe you should try trading places with Heero."

"No way!" Heero protested quickly. 

"Why don't you want to trade, Heero? Afraid that Relena likes bad boys more than shy ones?" 

"Shut up, Wufei, unless you want me to kill you right here and now" Heero growled, slowly approaching the Chinese pilot, ready to pounce and strangle his prey. 

"No! No!" Duo screamed desperately, trying to pin Heero's arms behind his back so he couldn't strangle Wufei. He wasn't having much luck. 

"You can't kill him, Heero!" he insisted. 

"And why not?" Heero asked, pinning his icy blue gaze on his still-intended prey. 

"Because then we'll only have four people, and you *know* how much less popular 98 Degrees is with only four guys!" Duo wailed. 

Heero stopped, and blinked. 

"*WHAT?!*"

"Hey, look guys, it's a car!" Quatre called from his post at the top of the ridge, where he and Trowa were attempting to flag down a ride to Sydney so they could perform their show for that night. 

"It's slowing!" 

The three boys raced up to meet with Quatre and Trowa. Sure enough, a purple Volkswagen Beetle was slowing, and came to a stop beside Quatre. 

A teenage girl of about their age poked her head out. She had short brown hair streaked with blond and red, and her cheeks sparkled in the afternoon sun. 

As she saw the five boys she'd stopped for, her eyes grew wide and her mouth fell open. 

"OhmiGod I can't believe it - *you're* Gundam Wing!" she squealed. Trowa looked uncomfortable, Quatre smiled nervously, and Duo winked at her while Heero stood impassively and Wufei rolled his eyes.

"Great. A fangirl. Weren't we trying to *avoid* these?" 

"Shut up, Wufei, don't you want a ride?" Duo hissed at him before swaggering up to the window where the girl was visibly goggling him. 

"Hey, sweetheart, you wouldn't mind giving us a ride to Sydney, wouldya? We'd be really grateful - you could even have front row tickets and a backstage pass" he said, winking again. 

"OhmiGod you're DUO, you're my *favorite*, I love you so much, I love your hair and front row tickets - ohmiGod they're better than my back row ones, ohmiGod I'm giving Gundam Wing a *ride*, sure just hop in but Duo, could you ride here up front with me?"

"Sure!" Duo offered, pulling the door open and plopping himself down in the passenger seat. 

"We. Are. Going. To. Die." Wufei said, before following Quatre, Trowa, and Heero into the impossibly small backseat of the car before it took off down the road. 


	2. Default Chapter Title

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. I don't own any of their songs, either. 

Boy Band: The Sequel

Part 2

Duo and their driver, Jenny, had been chatting up a storm for the past two hours. Quatre was getting a bit uncomfortable - since he was the smallest, he had been forced to sit half on Trowa's lap and half on Heero's. Although it wouldn't have been all that bad for maybe half an hour, as the second hour began he wanted off, or out. 

Wufei was excessively unhappy with their situation, and decided to make that fact known by sitting facing the window, watching the barren landscape go by with his arms crossed over his chest. His grumpiness was catching among those in the back seat. 

"Listen, Heero, next time we see her, would you mind terribly if *I* killed Relena? I mean, someone's just got to take the initiative," Trowa finally said. 

Heero tried to remain impassive-looking. "Fine by me. Just someone get rid of the girl." 

Trowa nodded. "Hey - maybe we could make it look like an accident. I dunno - maybe she could get blown up by stage pyrotechnics or something."

Heero seemed to be considering this option.

"Hey! No can do, my man. Remember when that nearly happened to Metallica's lead singer?" Duo asked, turning around in his seat to get in on the pseudo-conversation in the back. "He didn't die, and besides, it'd be so"

"Cliché?" Trowa suggested.

"Yeah! That's it!"

"Hey! You should be nicer to your fans!" Jenny commented from the drivers' seat. "I mean um, not that you're being mean to me or anything, I mean, I get to sit *next* to *Duo* and drive you guys to Sydney and - "

"Hey, we're great to our fans! We really appreciate em!" Duo assured her, turning back around. "It's just this one chick. She's really psycho, man. Been after Heero for *forever*. It's just her we don't like, really."

This seemed to reassure their driver. "Oh. Okay, then. Hey, look, our exit's the next one!" she pointed as a green exit sign went by, labeled "Sydney, next left."

"Thank *God*," Wufei muttered. 

Even Quatre was glad at the prospect of getting off his fellow pilots' laps. 

The tiny car finally pulled off the highway and they were plunged into the city of Sydney. 

"Hey! There's the auditorium!" Quatre exclaimed, pointing over to the left at the building in which they were to perform.

"I hope Relena's not here," Heero muttered as they turned into the parking lot, already jammed to overflowing with cars and crazed teenage girls.

"Hey, um, guys, how are we going to get in without being killed?" Quatre suddenly asked, looking worriedly out over the crowd.

"Hm, he has a point," Wufei agreed. "We usually have security – much as I don't want to admit this, I don't think I can hold them all off on my own."

"Hey, like, I could create a distraction!" Jenny announced gleefully. "I could tell em you're in some other direction or somethin'." 

"Yeah!" Duo's eyes lit up. "Thanks! It means so much oh! Here," he dug in his pocket and produced two front row tickets and a backstage pass.

"So that's where all the extra tickets have gone to," Wufei muttered to Trowa, Heero, and Quatre. "He's been pocketing them all for himself."

"*Thanks*!" Jenny gushed, her eyes lighting up as she took the proffered tickets and pass. "Oh! Um could you guys.. um, sign them? Pleeeease?"

"Sure!" Duo grinned, whipping out a pen and signing the tickets and pass. He tossed them into the back, where Quatre and Trowa gladly signed them, Heero and Wufei doing so a little less enthusiastically. 

"Okay, ready to create that diversion?" Duo asked, pointing out at the crowd.

"I *live* to serve Gundam Wing!" the girl quipped, then parked the car and slid out the door. 

"HEY!" she screamed at the crowd. "OhmiGod I JUST SAW GUNDAM WING! OVER THERE!!" 

The crowd suddenly fell silent seconds before there was a massive, ground-shaking stampede in the direction Jenny had pointed. The parking lot emptied in less than five seconds and the girl just stood there, rocking onto the balls of her feet, grinning like a madwoman. 

"All clear!" she announced cheerfully, and the boys piled out and made a run for it. 

"OHMIGOD IT'S *DUO*!!!" 

Someone had spotted them, and within half a second the parking lot had refilled with screaming girls, all headed for the hapless braided wonder. 

He took one look at the oncoming mass and sped up, but it was too late.

That, and the fact that a smirking Wufei tripped him before slipping into the auditorium and slamming the door, locking it behind himself and the other three. Through the small, glass window four faces could be seen peering out in time to watch Duo go down in a screaming, scratching, hyperactive mass of teenage girls. 

"I've got his HAIRBAND!!"

"Please! I touched his *hand*! I think I'm going to *die*!"

"Oh, *Duo*"

"Um please, girls" Despite any previous statements, Duo did not seem to be enjoying himself. He also seemed to be losing clothes at an exponential rate. 

"Hey! Give me back my pants!"

More screams. Just then, the steel door Wufei had locked inched open and a slender arm reached out. The hand grabbed Duo by his rapidly unraveling braid, and yanked the stripped-down-to-boxers boy through the door, locking it a second later. 

"Whew! Thanks guys whoever saved me" Duo panted, before turning a bright shade of red at his lack of any decent clothing aside from his mini-Deathscythe boxer shorts. 

"Um gottagogetchangedfortheshownowbye!" And with that, he raced off down the hall in search of their dressing rooms.

"Hey," Quatre said as they all watched his half-braided head retreat down the hall. "Who pulled him in?" 

All four boys looked at each other, confused. 

Then they shrugged and walked off down the hall towards their respective dressing rooms.

AN: Sorry it took so long to get this second part out! And have no fear I'm not nearly done with our boys yet! ;)


	3. Hair Gel and Peacecrafts - a chocolate m...

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. It's just the way things are. Someday perhaps they will change… 

AN: Some of this dialogue must be credited to my best friend, JenX, since she came up with it. I just put it into context. 

Warning: Extreme silliness and Relena-bashing ahead. 

Boy Band: The Sequel

Part 3

****

It was 5:30, and time for the boys to start getting ready for the show. Wufei had taken a nap, and walked sleepily into the small kitchen they'd been provided with backstage near their dressing rooms. He was hoping to find that someone had already made some coffee, so he wouldn't have to trouble himself with it. 

By the aroma drifting out of the kitchen as he stepped through the doorway, someone had indeed made coffee. As he entered the room he saw that it was Trowa, who was now seated at the small table looking over a magazine and drinking a steaming mug of the stuff. 

"Is there more?" Wufei asked curtly, heading for the coffeepot. 

Trowa nodded, then glanced up. 

He spit out his coffee, and began laughing convulsively – so much so that he nearly fell out of his chair. 

Wufei looked at him. What the hell was wrong with him? Had the stress finally gotten to him – had Trowa finally lost it? Wufei's eyes narrowed in concern and annoyance as he glared at the spasming figure before him. 

"What is it?" he demanded. 

Trowa managed to peek up, one eye glancing at Wufei before the head bowed and the laughter continued. 

"WHAT?!" Wufei demanded, walking over to the banged pilot, ready to punch him if he did not give up the requested information in the next thirty seconds.

"Look…. at… your… hair…." came from beneath the brown bang.

Wufei took a step back, wondering what on earth Trowa was talking about. 

Then he turned and saw his reflection in the toaster. 

His hair – it looked like… like some bad rendition of a Dragonball character's hair. It was stuck up in funny-shaped spikes all around his head. Like someone had tried to make him into Son Goku. 

Wufei fumed. Who the hell could have done this? 

Then his attention snapped back to the laughing figure on the chair. 

Trowa. 

There was only one person in the group who had access to such… remarkable hair gel. And only one person with an atrocious hairdo, aside from that silly American baka's remarkably stupidly long braid.

And that was Trowa. 

"Rrrrr….. BARTON!"

Trowa just laughed harder. 

"Barton. You. Dead. Now," Wufei stated, making his way over so he could strangle the pilot, who was just now beginning to breathe again, his face red and eyes tearing. 

Trowa blinked up at him as Wufei's hands approached his neck.

"Wait. You think – you think *I* did that?"

Wufei could swear the room had turned a rather dark shade of red. "Of course!" he sputtered. "Who else would it be? You, with that hair gel – and you are the only one who could possibly conceive of such a dreadful hairstyle! Besides," Wufei smirked, "I saw you watching Dragonball the other day with Duo. Well, let me tell you something – I AM NOT GOKU!! You are going to die!"

Trowa scooted his chair back a bit. "Serious," he said, attempting to keep a straight face. "Wasn't me."

"I don't care!" Wufei screamed. "I must murder something, and you're the only one here!" 

Trowa scrambled into a standing position, eyeing the Chinese pilot menacingly. "Hey, hey – remember what Duo said – you'd lose our ratings with only four guys." 

Wufei paused in his attempt to murder the unibanged boy before him. "Hm." A thought struck him. "MAXWELL!!!"

Duo heard the voice, and grinned, rolling over in bed and going back to sleep. 

Trowa continued to eye the fuming Chinese pilot as he tried to assess the situation. He vaguely wondered what the best way to escape would be – what were the chances that Wufei would kill him just because he was in a murderous mood? From the looks of it, pretty good chances. Which was not good for Trowa's well-being.

There was a noise at the door – Trowa and Wufei both looked up to see a confused and fuzzy-haired Quatre standing in the doorway, trying to figure out what was going on. His face had a look of shock on it, and he obviously had no idea what he'd just walked in on. He must have heard the commotion, Trowa mused. 

"Stay back," the brunette pilot warned the Arabian, not wanting to see him get killed because Wufei was acting so particularly unpredictable at the moment. 

"What – what…?" Quatre wanted to know, looking from Trowa to Wufei then back to Trowa again. "Are you trying out a new hairstyle tonight, Wufei?" he asked earnestly. 

Trowa goggled – did the other boy seriously believe Wufei would… go out in *public* like that? Now Quatre had done it – he would almost certainly get himself killed. Trowa frantically began to formulate a contingency plan… 

Wufei, who'd already looked like one could most definitely fry an egg on his head, now looked as if steam would come shooting out of his ears at any moment. 

"*WHAT?!* You think *I* would be caught *dead* anywhere with… with THIS?!"  
"Um…" Quatre stammered as Wufei began making his way towards the door with deliberate, slowly stalking steps. 

"Squee!" Quatre squeaked, diving behind Trowa's chair. "Please, can't we all just get along?"

Trowa sighed, knowing the blond's wishes would never be fulfilled. Not so long as Wufei was still breathing, at least. Or had his hair in that… state. 

"NO!" Wufei shrieked. "I'm going to find out who did this to me, and I'm going to *kill* them – SLOWLY!"

"Can you try taking that aggression out on Relena the next time you see her?" 

Trowa and Wufei – and the cowering Quatre – looked over to see a placid Heero leaning nonchalantly on the doorframe. 

Quatre inconspicuously scooted under the table. Perhaps he hoped Wufei wouldn't find him there, Trowa thought. 

"*Gladly*," Wufei replied in almost some semblance of his normal tone. "After I finish with Barton."

"Hey! I didn't do it. I'm for taking it out on Relena - she was the one who got us in this situation in the first place," Trowa defended himself.

Wufei was grumbling now. "… made me *sing* in front of people just to get away from her –" 

"And just who do you think keeps your fan club going, huh?" 

They all turned to the female voice from the back door of the kitchen. 

"Well… maybe not yours, Wuffy or Wu-tang or whatever your name is. But Heeero's…."

"Relena," Heero muttered – was there venom in that tone? He went for his gun, and his eyes went wide when it wasn't in the back of his spandex shorts. 

"How'd you get in here?" Trowa demanded, wondering if any of them were going to leave this kitchen before blood was shed. Probably not. 

"Looking for this?" Relena asked, holding up Heero's gun. 

"How'd you get that?!" Heero snapped, anger flaring in his normally emotionless eyes. Uh-oh, Trowa thought, she was really in for it now… 

"You shouldn't have it anyway, you know," she replied, skirting the subject. "You don't need to be a one-man army anymore, Heero. If you're going to be with me you've got to learn the meaning of the word 'peace'." 

"How'd you get that?" Heero growled, repeating his question.

Relena sighed. "That cute American with the braid gave it to me," she said simply. "It was the least he could do, after I pulled him in from that crowd of girls," she scoffed. "Really… Oh well, at least they're staying away from you, my *Hee-chan*." 

"Oh God, is she for real?" Wufei asked, his hair and Barton death wishes seemingly momentarily forgotten. 

Trowa shrugged. 

"You know, Heero, I don't appreciate this running from me you keep doing. I mean, I love the band and all, guys, but… Heero, when can I… makeoutwithyou?" she asked, the last part of her sentence coming out in a rush and her cheeks turning a slight shade of red. 

Wufei's nose had started dripping blood. Another squeak elicited from beneath the table. 

"Now?" she pleaded, batting her eyes, attempting to twirl the gun around her finger. It didn't work very well, but despite Trowa's silent prayers, she didn't shoot herself in the process.

"NO!" Heero looked around the room, and finally settled for throwing the coffeemaker at the girl. 

"Hey! I was drinking that!" Trowa protested. 

"You! Dead man! Shut up!" Wufei replied, but seconds later a distinct chuckle could be heard from his direction. 

Despite the fact that the boy had just pummeled Relena Peacecraft with the last of his special-order chocolate mocha supreme coffee, Trowa was almost proud of Heero. 

Relena, dripping with coffee, the smashed pot and plastic holder at her feet, stood looking at Heero with wide eyes. "Well…. *fine*!" she said, turning on her heel and spraying coffee all over the room as she did so. "I never really liked you anyway! Purely physical attraction, anyway. I can find someone else!" 

And she was gone. 

"Finally."

Trowa slumped into his chair. Wufei seemed to have forgotten about the state his hair was in and was actually laughing. 

Trowa lifted the tablecloth to see a confused and scared Quatre huddled beneath the table. 

"You can come out now, Quatre." 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yes." 

Quatre slowly emerged from beneath the table, eyeing Wufei and the pleased-looking Heero in the doorway. 

"Does this mean we don't have to sing anymore?"

AN: But Quatre, the show must go on! Not done yet… 


End file.
